


Balance

by startwithsparks



Series: MMOM 2012 [2]
Category: Deadpool (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 08:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startwithsparks/pseuds/startwithsparks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some benefits to having a super-genius boyfriend, even if they're only balancing out your super-insane mercenary boss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Balance

There were a few benefits to living with Wade, and while they barely outweighed the constant pranks, general lack of anything resembling housekeeping, and complete lack of boundaries, they did just manage to take the edge off. For Bob, it was having Weasel around all the time. He appreciated everything Wade had done for him – giving him a place to go when Hydra kicked him out – but lacked a lot of necessary interpersonal skills. 

Even if Wade wasn't insane, he was a super-powered mercenary and Bob was just some kid who inadvertently joined a terrorist organization because he didn't belong anywhere else. He obviously wasn't dedicated to cause, that was why they kicked him out, but it also drew a more definite line between who they were. Weasel was just some kid who inadvertently became the go-to guy when someone like Wade needed shiny new toys. He didn't really believe in the cause either – he didn't want to know what people used the things he sold for – which put an equally large line between him and Wade since Wade never shut up about the work he did. How the two of them managed each relationship with the other man for so long without coming together was kind of astounding. 

Weasel had hypothesized a coupled of times that Wade kept them apart for so long because as much as he wanted to keep them both for himself, he also didn't want to run the risk of them figuring out they had another option. Bob never understood how those two things were exclusive – being dedicated to Deadpool, and having a relationship with each other – but that was usually when Weasel shot him a lopsided grin and told him that thinking too much was _his_ job and to stop elbowing in on it. 

It just made Bob work harder at proving himself to both men, the first thing in his life he'd actually felt was worth doing. If that meant that he ended up going on jobs with Wade only to come home and curl up in bed with Weasel, he was alright with it. He had a badass job and a super genius boyfriend who was pretty fucking awesome in bed too, what was there to complain about? 

Tonight was one of the easy jobs – just some average mark – but it involved sitting in a car for six hours listening to Wade drone on and on about something that Bob tuned out ten minutes into the stakeout. Once the guy actually showed up, it was in and out, three bullets – one for him and two for the witnesses – and they were out again. All that waiting for ten minutes of effort, Bob wasn't even necessary, but as Wade pointed out, "I like having someone to talk to." Even if that person wasn't listening to him, it didn't matter as long as there was another body there. 

They could see the glow from the second bedroom window when they got home, though, which meant that Weasel was still up – or that his computer was still on at least – and Wade dropped a Burger King bag in Bob's hands, sending him along upstairs while he brought something to Al. He didn't really _rush_ upstairs, but he didn't linger long either, clicking on lights and looking for weird traps the old woman set for Wade as he navigated their mess of an apartment on the way to his room. He nudged the door open with his hip and dropped the paper bag on top of the dresser.

"You still look ridiculous in that suit," Weasel snorted as a greeting, sprawled out on the bed. His glasses were already folded and set on the desk, so Bob was tempted to make some crack about how he couldn't even see the suit to tell how ridiculous it was in the first place, but instead he just tugged his mask off with a laugh.

"You think Wade's looks any less stupid?" he asked.

Weasel grinned at him and reached out a hand, coaxing Bob forward easily so he could unzip the back of the suit for him. "Well, he does have that really cool belt..." he offered.

Bob just rolled his eyes and peeled off the suit, "There's nothing in them – that's the secret, there is _nothing_ in them. You'd think spare bullets, but Wade doesn't carry spare bullets, he carries spare guns." 

"I know," Weasel grinned, flinging Bob's mask across the room, where it landed on top of a pile of laundry. "I've had to build him super extended magazines just so he doesn't have to reload as often. I think it might actually be a compulsion. Either that or he doesn't know how to load a gun." 

"I'd go with the first one," Bob shrugged, tugging his foot out of the his boot and kicking the mess of fabric under the bed. He crawled forward and flopped on Weasel's chest, pushing thick curls off his forehead. "Did you or Al put the trip-line in the kitchen?" he asked. 

A mischievous glint sparked in Weasel's eyes, "Oh that was all her. But I watched. I figured, if nothing else, it'll be a good warning for how long we have until he barges in here demanding attention." 

Bob dropped his forehead against Weasel's shoulder with a groan. "And he's going to, too. He's on a roll tonight. We'll need to hurry." 

"Fortunately for you, I've already taken care of business."

"Convenient," Bob cocked an eyebrow at him. "Well, what are you waiting for? I'm not _not_ wearing pants for nothing now." 

Weasel muttered something that sounded like _demanding_ against Bob's lips as he dragged him in for a kiss, sliding a hand down between them. He palmed the other man, nipping at Bob's lower lip as he shifted against Weasel's hand. He braced himself against the bed, one elbow digging in next to Weasel's arm as he reached back with his other hand to wrap around himself as well. "Quick?" he breathed, and felt the nod that answered him. He licked his lips, wrapping his hand around his dick just above Weasel's hand, thrusting rough and uneven into their first. His breath shuddered against Weasel's lips and the other man groaned under him, reaching up to tangle his free hand in the thick hair at the back of Bob's neck. He dragged him back down into another kiss, the sound of his grunting and panting lost between their mouths. 

When his hips started to stagger, losing what little rhythm he had in the first place, he nudged Weasel's shirt up under his arms and gave a few more quick thrusts before spilling against his stomach. After a night of thinking about _this_ waiting for him back here, that was all he needed. He rolled off to the side and buried his face against Weasel's shoulder, his cheeks flushed. He started to open his mouth to apologize – though he wasn't sure what he was apologizing for since the point was to finish quick – just as the sound of empty cans and Wade yelling profanities sounded through the apartment. 

Bob had to stifle giggles against Weasel's shoulder, but the other man just looked smug. 

"We have impeccable timing," he chuckled. 

"Nice," Bob nodded, "But I still don't believe Al set that up without your help."


End file.
